


in picture frames, in all my dreams

by PenzyRome



Series: i listen to taylor swift too much [4]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Valentine's Day, a few brief mentions of drinking, i wrote this for mj... mj i love u so dearly merry xmas, sequel to this night is sparkling!!!, theres not really much to tag this with they just. are in love. thats it, they make out for a bit. such is their right, this one's inspired by paper rings!!! i love that bouncy smitten jam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:33:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28327605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenzyRome/pseuds/PenzyRome
Summary: Once again, they're at a party of Katherine's, and once again, Jack is staring at Davey. This time, though, he's close enough to touch.
Relationships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly
Series: i listen to taylor swift too much [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1635484
Comments: 8
Kudos: 42





	in picture frames, in all my dreams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [weisenbachfelded](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weisenbachfelded/gifts).



> hello so my dear mj asked that i write them a sequel to "this night is sparkling" as their xmas gift. so here it is! merry xmas have 1.5k of disgustingly sweet nonsense. its inspired in part by paper rings which i kinda connect to enchanted in my head because they are both adorable

As fate would have it, they’re back at Katherine’s for a party.

Obviously, they’ve been to parties together-- Jack met Davey’s family at a cousin’s wedding, they’ve dutifully attended birthdays and Halloweens and New Year’s Eves. But this is their first Valentine’s Day at a party, since they just got breakfast and spent the day in last year.

And something about it feels cyclical. Davey, in dark green, pops against the cheerful pink of Katherine’s bar, sipping something fruity. The music is romantic enough for Valentine’s Day but horny enough for 20-somethings, and there’s a rosé fountain at the side of the room.

“You,” Davey muses, “are very deep in thought.” Jack blinks back into consciousness, and he laughs. “Welcome back.”

“Sorry.” He exhales quickly, as if to center himself, and raises his eyebrows. “You were saying?”

“Oh, I was proposing.” Davey’s tone is idle and disinterested, and Jack’s heart entirely stops.

“What?”

“Kidding.” He swivels slightly in his barstool, flicking Jack’s arm with one finger. “I just said you look pretty.”

“You do, too.” Davey crinkles his nose and ducks his head at the compliment, and Jack leans forward to kiss him. There’s the faint taste of strawberry and vodka on his lips, and Davey pulls away before Jack can push any further. “We’ve been sitting at the bar this whole time.”

“Well, you like carefully nursing a single drink, and I like looking at you.”

That coaxes a happy little noise, halfway between a sigh and a laugh, out of Davey, and he flushes. God, does he fluster easily, in the most delightful way. “Still. Katherine can bust all this money because her dad wants to connect the millennials to the World’s brand.” Jack tilts his head. “So, we’re the millennials. We should connect to something.”

“What should we connect to?” Jack asks, humoring him, and Davey surveys the party the same way he looks at case readings and contracts.

“There’s a make-your-own-bouquet station over there.” He points to several long, ornate tables covered in vases of flowers and little plastic slips to put any selected blooms into. Jack has a momentary, mournful thought about the rent he could have paid with that money, and he shakes it off with a laugh.

“Let’s do it.”

Davey’s favorite flowers are sunflowers, so Jack takes a few of them and then surrounds them with little blush-pink flowers and delicate stems covered in white buds and blooms. He’s quite satisfied with it by the end, and he offers it to Davey. He beams and brushes his finger delicately against one of the sunflower petals, handing a bouquet over to Jack.

It’s clearly not professional-- it feels like something a lovestruck teenager would put together in a field of wildflowers, rather than at an exquisite party. It’s the epitome of spring, all baby blues and mint greens and butter-yellows and pastel purples, and there is no thought towards how it should be composed, instead just gathered together, blending like an impressionist painting.

God, Jack loves it. He loves it more than he should, he loves the messiness and smitten youthfulness of it all. Tipping his head up, he kisses Davey’s cheekbone, earning a grin.

“C’mon,” he says, his lips brushing against the shell of Jack’s ear. “I’ve got an idea.”

“You wanna dance before we leave?” The question gives Davey pause, and he puts his free hand in his pocket.

“Do  _ you  _ wanna dance here?” Davey asks, and Jack considers it before he shakes his head. Davey shrugs, deciding, “We can dance anywhere. Let’s scram.”

A few minutes later, they’ve forgone the taxi and are heading away from the Pulitzer mansion on foot. They walk with their arms linked, bouquets in their outside hands, Jack’s puffy jacket against Davey’s sturdy wool coat.

“You mind telling me where we’re going?” They’re ten minutes down the paved road that leads towards and away from the mansion, and nearing the rest of civilization.

“I figure,” Davey says, the tip of his nose rosy in the cold, “there are a bunch of a cute little bakeries here, rich people like those. We’ll get something sweet and overpriced and European, and then we can get a ride back to the city when we feel like it.”

“As long as you pay for the European thing.”

“A gentleman never makes his date pay.”

Jack debates internally whether that was a slight towards him or Davey’s defense of him, and Davey clearly sees his wheels turning. He squeezes Jack’s hand and winks when he scowls.

Jack sets down his cannoli. “Y’know, I realized something.”

“Shoot,” Davey says, licking powdered sugar off the corner of his lips.

“We left a party.” With a pause, he tries to imagine himself two years ago. “I never used to just… get bored of parties. And you never used to leave, right? Even if you wanted to.”

Davey rolls his eyes at the thought of himself. “Fuckin’ desperate to seem like I was having fun.”

“Exactly. And we just left, to eat pastries, just ‘cuz.”

Nodding, Davey hums in the back of his throat. “Wild,” he says after a while. “So is this you saying you want to go back?”

Jack shakes his head, taking another bite of cannoli. “Nope.”

“Alright, then.” Davey taps a finger on his own upper lip, and Jack catches the signal, wiping his thumb over his mouth to clear away any crumbs. He gets an all-clear nod and sighs, content, then leans back in his chair. Davey, in turn, sets his elbows on the table and leans forward.

He chews on his bottom lip for a moment, clearly deep in thought, and then asks, “Remember what I said earlier?”

"You say a lot of things."

Davey's mouth drops open in faux offense, and he shakes his head mournfully while Jack laughs himself into a fit. “And here I was, thinking you loved me. Thinking we were in love!” Jack only continues to cackle, and he drops his head into his hand. “Your loved ones always betray you,” he gripes. “God, you’re such a bitch.”

“But you just admitted it!” Jack says, still fighting off laughter while he points a triumphant finger. “You admitted it, you love me and you could never bear to part with me.”

Finally calming himself down, he beams at Davey, who smiles despite himself.

“When I mentioned proposing.” Davey taps on the back of Jack’s hand, not even seeming to notice that he did. “Do you remember that?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Jack clears his throat. “Yeah, I do.”

“I’m not gonna do it right now,” Davey reassures him, and Jack nods hesitantly. “But should I? At some point?”

Again, he nods, shaky. “Yeah. Yeah, I would like that.”

“Good,” he says, barely more than a whisper. “That’s good.”

Jack stares at him for a moment, trying to figure out who the hell this man is and how the hell he’s here with him-- this man who asks before asking and shoves flowers together and repaints Jack’s kitchen for fun. This man, who later today, will drag Jack into the apartment-complex pool when it’s still cold enough to snow and attempt to measure Jack’s ring size and make tomato soup to match the red-white-and-pink scheme of the day-- not that Jack is yet aware that any of that will happen.

He leans forward and kisses Davey, gentle at first and then pressing deeper, further, until he can taste ricotta filling and strawberry chapstick. Davey smiles against his mouth and nips at Jack’s lower lip, and then someone coughs behind them.

“Hi.”

Jack tugs away a centimeter to see a woman in an apron holding their check.

“I am so sorry,” Davey says, closing his eyes as if to fend off embarrassment, and she sighs.

“It happens. Pay whenever you’d like.”

Jack calls weakly, “Thanks!” as she leaves, and once her back is turned, he laughs and leans in to kiss Davey again.

Davey kicks the door shut behind them and crowds Jack up against the door, shrugging his coat off as he tilts Jack’s chin so he can kiss down the side of his neck. “You are so fucking handsome,” he mutters against his shoulder, pushing his chlorine-soaked henley out of the way.

“One to talk.” He runs his thumb along Davey’s collarbone, sighing and tipping his head back until it hits the door. “Hey, don’t get a flash mob.”

“It’s not 2011.” He pauses and pulls back slightly, his hand still pressed against Jack’s jaw. “For what?”

“When you propose. Don’t do it with a mob.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Catching his breath, he shivers from the still-present chill of the pool. “Any more hot tips? Traditions you’d like me to include?”

“Well, I think it’s really sweet how my parents got divorced a day after they got married, if you wanna continue that.”

“Ha, ha.” Davey kisses the corner of his mouth. “It’ll be good, cross my heart.”

“It better. I want--” he stifles a rough noise that rises up in his throat when Davey bites at the point between his neck and his shoulder. “I want a romantic story, dammit.”

“I’ll give it to you,” Davey promises, coming back to kiss him and then murmuring against his lips, “I’ll give you a thousand. I’ll give you one a day, for the rest of our lives.”

**Author's Note:**

> i love u mj! i hope u enjoyed this there is no plot to it its just "they r. in love"  
> to the rest of u who happened upon this... merry christmas, if u celebrate. if not, then happy friday! everyone go check out mj's fics IMMEDIATELY (weisenbachfelded on ao3). they are @weisenbachfelded on tumblr and i am @penzyroamin!  
> leave a comment if u enjoyed this or it made your chest ache with loneliness. ily bye <3


End file.
